


Is That a Fire in Your Kitchen? (Or Are You Happy to See Me?)

by Museohmuse



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Derek's boxers have more personality than him, M/M, Neighbors, aggressive flirting, failhuman!Derek, i don't know how I thought of this, stiles is nosy and rude
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-07
Updated: 2014-05-07
Packaged: 2018-01-23 22:57:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1582463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Museohmuse/pseuds/Museohmuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Derek is incompetent in the kitchen, Stiles is insufferable everywhere, and the Looney Tunes are the only reason either one of them have game.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Is That a Fire in Your Kitchen? (Or Are You Happy to See Me?)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HalfFizzbin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HalfFizzbin/gifts).



> I wrote this for Julie, who prompted: "Had to knock on Hot Sweetheart Neighbor’s door to come help me disable the smoke detector. Hot Sweetheart Neighbor bore witness to my gross post-work bandana hair, my too-depressed-to-clean trash piles, and the big lime-green vibrator on the nightstand. QUICK SOMEBODY FIC IT SO I DON’T FEEL SO SAD ANYMORE” 
> 
> so I wrote something for that and I guess I fit the bill? idk, I had fun writing this bizarre piece. 
> 
> also, this is cross posted from tumblr, so if it looks familiar, that's why. 
> 
> (this is unbeta'd, btw, so I apologize for any dumb errors)

Another bang and shuffle combo racked through Stiles’ apartment and he put his book down with a huff. He never really had any problems with his neighbor before - excluding having to physically restrain himself from climbing him like a tree - so the noises, despite being annoying, worried Stiles a little.

Derek was never a party-goer or party-haver; he kept to himself, unfortunately enough. He didn’t even bother Stiles even when he knew he was being unnecessarily loud - which was why Stiles was trying to be content with the occasional thumps and scratching of chairs.

There was a moment of blessed silence and Stiles returned to his book, only to be interrupted by three heavy thumps against his door. Stiles put the book down, admitting to himself that the chapter was just not going to be read tonight, and went to the door.

When he looked through the peephole, a shock went through Stiles’ chest when he saw Derek on the other side, disgruntled scowl on that damn handsome face and gloriously tight tee that left little to the imagination.

Stiles pulled the door open, greeting Derek with a simple, “What’s up?”

Derek’s mouth pulled into thin line, clearly uncomfortable standing before Stiles, which thanks very much for that self esteem boost. Stiles took the silence as an opportunity to check Derek out (he wished he could be more sorry about it); as his eyes roved up Derek’s (incredible, bulky, mouth-watering) form, he saw - no, that couldn’t be -

"Is that a Tasmanian Devil watch?" Stiles blurted. It looked like he had interrupted Derek mid-speech, the way Derek snapped his mouth shut and glared at Stiles. But this was _important_ and besides, Stiles’ fear of glares had decreased dramatically since meeting Derek (and his libido in response to them peaked, funnily enough) (no, there was no connection between the two, and Stiles would deny that with his dying breath).

"That - yes, but it was just a gag joke." Derek looked too distressed to permit Stiles poking more fun at the watch, but in the future, Stiles knew he had to get the story out of him. In any way he could.

"What can I do you for?" Stiles asked. Derek’s face contorted and Stiles realized just how awful that sounded.

"I’m sorry, that always worked in TV shows, it sounds so cocky and cool when other people said it. I literally never thought that it could sound so rude, like dude, obviously you’re not a prostitute." At Derek’s eyebrows furrowing deeper, Stiles continued, "Not that you couldn’t, you do you, and I’m sure you’d do well, just totally fine in that job." Stiles was very close to slamming the door on his head repeatedly.

"Fire," Derek blurted. Stiles blinked.

"I … I don’t … ?" Stiles said when Derek said nothing.

"I - my dinner caught on fire and I’m not …." A noise died in the back of Derek’s throat before he said, "I just need help. With my fire alarm? It just won’t cut out."

"Oh, dude, was that all that noise I heard?" Derek’s baleful expression revealed to Stiles that yes, that noise did play a part in Derek’s plight. "Okay, gotcha. Is the fire out?" Derek nodded. "Awesome, cool. Let’s roll."

Derek nodded again, an awkward but totally endearing jerk of his head, and turned around, giving Stiles time to ram his head into the door. Roll out - who rolls out to the door right freaking next to you? Stiles was glad none of his friends were there to witness his abject failure communicating with his stupid crush. But he kind of wished his friends were there to see Derek’s perfect ass as he walked to his door.

—

Derek’s apartment was interesting. Interesting in that there was no relation whatsoever between him and Stiles’ living quarters, and that it was so bare. The alarm was beeping shrilly, making Stiles question just how thick their walls where if he couldn’t hear it.

"In here," Derek said, breaking Stiles’ examination of the apartment - not that there was much to see beyond the sparse furniture, loaded bookshelf (which very much piqued Stiles’ interest) and -

"You really have a thing for Looney Tunes, don’t you?" Stiles couldn’t get the humor out of his voice as he eyed Derek’s pair of boxers decorated with the various characters from the TV show - at least, he assumed there were his by the flush of his pink-tipped ears, so freaking _adorable_ \- laying on an ottoman.

"The alarm?" Derek barked, his embarrassment softening the sharp tone. Stiles acquiesced, raising his hands in surrender as he followed Derek into the kitchen. The fire was indeed out, the thick smell of smoke lingering in the small space. Stiles pulled up a chair under the source of the sound, grabbing a screwdriver that was left on the counter and getting to work.

Being the Sheriff’s son, Stiles was subjected to many fire safety talks, including how to work his way around a fire alarm. He had the alarm off in minutes - a personal record, if Stiles said so himself - and presented the disabled device to Derek with a grand flourish.

"And that’s all, folks!" he chirped, grinning when Derek scowled at him. "You can’t tell me it’s a joke when I have so much evidence on the contrary!"

"It - the boxers were just lying around, I had to beat the fire somehow!" Derek snapped, marching towards the incriminating boxers, balling them up, and tossing them through the open door of another room.

"Hey, no judgment, Tas," Stiles smirked. "I’ve got my own embarrassing collection of Transfomer toys, no shame in my game."

"My name isn’t Tas," Derek grumbled, walking back into the kitchen to noisily mess with various pans.

"Are you more of a Bugs guy?" Stiles asked, leaning on the table to see Derek’s incredibly back muscles bunching up, visible through the tight t’shirt he was wearing. "No, definitely Daffy. You’ve got the whole flustered thing and everything."

"I am _not_ flustered," Derek barked, whipping around to glare fiercely at Stiles.

"Alright, big guy, I believe you," Stiles said, standing upright so he could walk closer to Derek.

"What?" Derek grunted when Stiles peeked over his shoulder into the sink.

"Trying to see if you have any other Looney Tunes paraphernalia," Stiles replied. "No such luck here."

Stiles could see the vein pulsing in Derek’s forehead and it gave him such joy. “What were you trying to cook anyway?” he continued, eyeing the blackened pot resting in the sink.

Derek’s shoulders collapsed, a resigned sigh escaping his lips. “Macaroni and cheese,” he grumbled.

A laugh escaped Stiles before he could reel it in, but Derek’s eyebrow twitch somehow made the modicum of guilt vanish. “Dude, what?” he asked through another laugh. “You went through college, right? That shit was our bread and butter for four years!”

"I got distracted!" Derek snapped. Stiles gave himself a couple seconds to think about potential distractions available in the comfort of Derek’s house, but pulled himself out of the fantasy before his "horny fantasy" face (as dubbed by Jackson) made an appearance.

"Well, you know," Stiles began lightly," besides being the Mac and cheese master, I happen to be pretty good at making other, more adult dishes."

There was a beat of silence where they both looked at each other before Derek asked warily, “Define ‘more adult.’”

Stiles smirked, and replying in a more husky tone, “Depends on what we get up to after dinner.”

Derek’s smirk was more devastating than Stiles ever anticipated, and he needed that mouth all over him yesterday.

"If you can get through tonight without any more Looney Tunes, I’ll take you up on that."

"You’re on," Stiles replied folding his fingers together to rest his chin as he smiled up at Derek.

—

That weekend, Stiles knocked on Derek’s door, holding his famous bruschetta dish carefully in the other hand. Stiles technically didn’t win the bet, but he liked to think that he tricked Derek into accepting the date anyway; he felt pretty confident that he would make Derek cream his pants. From the good food, of course.

When Derek opened the door, a barely there smile on his face, Stiles couldn’t help himself: “What’s up, Doc!”

He guess he deserved the door slamming in his face.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Check me out on tumblr as savethestiles!


End file.
